by Lila Monroe
“Shut up,” I say, but I’m laughing, flushed with the thrill of unexpected freedom. Hallie used my phone to text him an SOS just as Fern and Acorn were beginning their demonstration of The Method of the Great Bee, and to his credit, he showed up in record time, though not before I got an eyeful of both The Erotic Carousel and The Posture of the Apes in the Third Month of Spring. “I’m traumatized over here! I may never recover.”
“Yeah, we should throw you a fundraiser.” Ryan nods out the windshield as we pass an old-school burger shack. “Have you eaten?”
I consider that for a moment. “No, actually.”
He swings into the drive-thru for a couple of burgers and two extra-large orders of fries, then throws in a giant box of onion rings just to be safe. “Not exactly PowerBar-worthy,” I tease, nibbling at the end of a crispy, salty fry.
Ryan grins. “Everything in moderation, princess. Eat up.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. My trip has faded, leaving me wrung out and giggly, and by the time I down the last of the chocolate milkshake I’m feeling mostly like myself. “Hallucinogenic drugs and junk food,” I joke as he pulls to a stop at a red light. “It’s like the college experience I never had.”
Ryan grins. “Me either, actually.”
I raise my eyebrows. “What, you weren’t a big partier?”
“I mean, I partied a little,” Ryan admits, “but there’s honestly not a lot of time for peyote trips when you’ve got to be up at four a.m. for practice.”
“Peyote?” My eyes widen. “Do you think that’s what I took?”
“Well, it wasn’t powdered sugar, princess.”
“Wow,” I say, frankly a little impressed with myself. “I am having all kinds of new experiences on this vacation.” I glance at him sideways. “Some more exciting than others, clearly.”
Ryan’s gaze flicks up and down my body, overt. “I would hope so.”
The light turns green. Ryan steps on the gas, and suddenly I realize we’re headed in the opposite direction from the hotel. “Hey,” I say, nudging his warm shoulder across the gearshift, “where are we going?”
Ryan glances over at me, then back at the road, mischief written all over his face. “You’ll see.”
“Mysterious,” I say with a smile. After the last few days I would have thought I’d had my fill of surprises, but with Ryan, I’m happy to go along for the ride.
Eventually he pulls into the aquarium, parking in the empty lot and killing the engine.
“It’s closed,” I say, confused.
“Wait here,” he instructs, hopping out. I watch as he talks to the grizzled security guard standing near the row of glass doors at the front of the building, then comes back a moment later and knocks on the passenger-side window. “Come on,” he says. “Follow me.”
I take his hand and trail him across the parking lot. “Thanks again, boss,” he says to the guard, who tips his hat briefly.
“Let me guess,” I tease, as he holds the door open for me. “Football fan?”
Ryan winks. “Something like that.”
The aquarium is huge inside, dim and glowing. I’ve been here before, but never after-hours like this. Hundreds of tropical fish make their home in a massive four-story ocean tank, while a brightly-colored coral garden lines one wall. An open-air mammal center houses sea lions and fur seals, and we take a seat on a low wooden bench near the railing and watch as they splash around in the shallows, seemingly unbothered by the late hour. One of the sea lions swims over and gazes at me solemnly, her dark eyes fathoms and fathoms deep. I look back at her for a quiet moment, then reach out to run my hand over her slippery head.
“They’re incredible,” I murmur, a slow grin spreading over my face as I turn to look at Ryan, his profile sharp in the half-light. “You’re incredible. Seriously, Ryan. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“I thought maybe you could use some non-wedding-related peace and quiet,” he says, shrugging a slightly sheepish, no-big-deal kind of shrug. Still, I can tell he’s pleased that I like it.
“I went whale-watching with my parents once when I was a kid,” I tell him, the memory suddenly rising up. “We didn’t see any actual whales, but we wound up spotting a pod of dolphins instead. I remember my mom told me to pay attention, because it wasn’t every day you saw something you knew would stick with you for the rest of your life.”
Ryan sits back on the bench, his fingertips just brushing mine. “What was she like?” he asks.
“My mom?” I slowly exhale. “She was fantastic. She loved to read—she used to go to the library and take out these massive stacks of books for me. She was really wry. And she was a terrible driver. By the time I was old enough to learn, she was too sick to teach me, but she always said it was probably for the best because we both would have wound up dead.” I make a face. “She had a dark sense of humor, clearly.”
Ryan smiles. “She sounds like a hoot.”
“She was.” I’m quiet for a moment. Then I take a deep breath. “Want to hear something totally nuts?” I ask, the words all coming out in a rush before I can lose my nerve. “It’s been almost fifteen years since she died. Pretty soon I’ll have lived without her longer than I lived with her. But it doesn’t feel like that at all. Like sometimes I’ll see an episode of a TV show or hear somebody say something on the subway and think, I need to tell my mom that. And I’ll actually take my phone out of my purse before I realize that of course I can’t text her. She never even had a cell phone.”
Ryan gazes at me for a long moment, and there’s nothing like pity on his face.
“That doesn’t sound nuts,” he says gently. “Not at all.”
“Well.” I clear my throat, a little embarrassed. “Anyway.” I’m not used to talking about myself, making myself so vulnerable. I’m not used to wanting to, but with Ryan, I’m surprised to realize it feels OK. “How’d the pitch rehearsal go?”
“Good, I think,” Ryan says after a moment of consideration. “At this point it’s not like I’m not prepared, you know? The only thing left is to just get out there and do it.”
I nod. “I’m really proud of you, you know that?” I reach out and lace our fingers together. “I mean, I know that probably sounds strange, but I am.”
Ryan shakes his head. “It’s nice, actually. Having you rooting for me makes me feel like maybe I can actually do this thing.” He takes a deep breath. “I was wrong about you, Liv. I mean, I’ve always known you were impressive. But when we met back in New York, I thought what I was seeing was the whole package. And this week . . .” He trails off. “I’ve realized what I thought I knew was just the tip of the iceberg.”
“The iceberg being me in this scenario?” I tease.
“Fuck off,” Ryan says, but he’s smiling. “I’m being serious. You’re warm, and you’re funny, and you’re kind of a goofball when you think nobody’s watching. You’re not like anybody I’ve ever known before.”
I think of what I told Hallie the other day, about how surprising he is to me. How I never expected to feel this way at all. “I know what you mean,” I say quietly, squeezing his hand tighter.
“Can I see you again?” he asks me. “After this weekend, I mean. Back in New York. For real.’
My heart stumbles dangerously. Oh, I like him way too much. I more than like him, potentially—the thought arrives like a lightning bolt, and I push it quickly out of my head. “I’d like that,” I manage instead, my voice a lot steadier than I’m feeling, and then I kiss him, so he can’t see the emotion I’m sure is written all over my face.
Back at the hotel, Ryan takes his time undressing me, working the tiny clasp on the back of my dress and pulling the zipper down inch by slow, careful inch. By the time he lays me out on the bed and peels my panties down my legs I’m so tightly wound with anticipation I almost can’t breathe. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, looming over me on the mattress.
“You are,” I counter before I can stop myself. It’s not like it i
sn’t true: I can’t get enough of his body, the disciplined cut of muscle in his chest and stomach. The dark hint of mischief in his eyes.
Ryan grins before ducking his head, tongue sliding over every inch of my body—circling my nipples and flicking teasingly into my navel, dipping into the crease of my thigh just a few agonizing inches from the place I need him most. “Condom,” I gasp, hips arching fretfully off the bed.
“Eager girl.” Ryan’s eyebrows flicker. He flips me onto my stomach in one smooth movement. “In a minute.”
I let out a low, impatient moan as Ryan slides his palms up my spine and across my shoulders until he’s hovering over me with both his arms on the outside of mine, whisper-close but not quite touching. It feels overwhelming suddenly, both the size and power of his body on top of me and the hugeness of my own feelings, flinging themselves against my ribs like they want to get free. I arch my back to cover, grinding against him, and Ryan sucks in a breath.
“Jesus, Liv.” His voice is ragged, and I smile into the pillows. I knew that would work. I do it again, harder this time, and Ryan reaches over to dig in the nightstand. I turn onto my side and watch him roll the condom on, shivering at the casual way he handles himself. Once he’s sheathed he nudges me onto my back one more time, smoothing a hand down my thigh as he lines himself up.
“Please,” I manage—out of my mind with lust. I feel desperate, consumed by desire. I feel like if he doesn’t fuck me right now I might die.
Ryan pauses. “Hey,” he murmurs, dropping down so his forehead is resting against mine. “You trust me?”
I tip my face up to kiss him instead of answering, but Ryan pulls back. “Liv, sweetheart,” he says. “Hey.”
I swallow hard. “I trust you,” I promise, and once the words are out it’s like all the tension drains out of my body—I do trust him, after all. I know he’ll take care of me.
All I need to do is let it happen.
Ryan smiles, and slowly thrusts inside me. “Is this what you wanted?” he whispers, sinking all the way deep. I moan at the sensation, my legs coming up to lock tight around his waist as he starts moving, fucking me hard and deep and God, so good.
“You feel incredible, do you know that?” Ryan gasps, his breath coming in raw pants now. He plunges harder. Deeper. Fuck, so deep. “You’re amazing, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever, ever—”
“Ryan,” I cry, and just like that the orgasm shatters through me, out of control and all-consuming. I’m not even done before Ryan is coming too, letting out a roar as his grip on my body tightens and he buries himself deep. We ride it out together, holding on for dear life, and I cling to him, feeling like I’m falling.
Like I just stepped off the edge.
When we surface, Ryan rolls us over in one easy motion, tugging me down to rest against his chest. I can hear the slowing thud of his heartbeat as he strokes gently at the nape of my neck. “Hi,” he murmurs quietly, reaching down and threading his fingers through mine.
“Hi yourself,” I murmur, burying my face in his shoulder so he can’t see my face. I expected the orgasm to calm me down, but instead my mind is racing, a hundred different emotions tumbling wildly in my head as the terrifying, exhilarating truth becomes clear:
Despite all my rules, all my boundaries, I’m falling in love with Ryan Callahan.
I just have no idea what that means.
18
Ryan
I’m planning to rest up for my pitch with a lazy morning in bed, but the sun is only just rising when I wake up, adrenaline pumping in my veins. I need to get up, get out, do something, but Olivia is still passed out beside me, so I sneak out and go for a long, sweaty run along the beach, picking up coffee and bagels on the way back.
When I get back to the room, Olivia is sitting cross-legged on the bed, freshly showered and dressed in shorts and a black silk T-shirt that shows off her figure. “There you are. I ordered breakfast, figured you’d want a good start before the pitch.”
I look at the table—and spy two cups of coffee and a pair of sesame bagels. “Great minds,” I say with a grin, holding up my own bag before ducking my head to kiss her. Olivia trails a hand through my hair and I feel a wave of satisfaction. It’s crazy how easy it is to be around her, how compatible we feel after such a short time. And not just in bed, either—although I won’t lie, the sex is pretty fucking amazing.
“Did the run help?” she asks now. “That’s what you were doing, right? Trying to chill out before your pitch?”
“What?” I frown, shoving a straw into my iced coffee more roughly than I necessarily mean to. “What makes you think I’m not chill?”
“Well, I mean, I have eyeballs,” Olivia says with a smile. She sets the coffee down on the nightstand and reaches for my shoulders, her delicate fingers digging into the tense muscle there. “You are one big knot, my friend,” she says. “We gotta get you out of your head somehow.”
I flick my gaze up and down her body. “Oh yeah?” I ask, unable to hide a dirty smile. “What’d you have in mind?”
Olivia makes a face. “Not that,” she says with a giggle. “Or, I mean, maybe that. I haven’t decided yet. But how did you used to focus before games back when you were playing football?”
“Honestly?” I say, a little sheepish. “Old school Xbox.”
I’m expecting laughter, but Olivia just smiles. “So let’s do that,” she says.
I raise my eyebrows. “What, now?”
“Sure, why not?” Olivia bounces up off the bed and pads over toward the TV. “There’s a console in the entertainment unit, I think. I mean, I’ll be honest with you, I couldn’t tell an Xbox from any of the other ones with a literal gun to my head, but . . . ta-da!” She holds up a controller. “Will this work?”
It’s a PlayStation, actually, but it’ll sure as shit get the job done, and I grin at her sweet expression. “Do you know how to—?”
“Not specifically,” Olivia says with a shrug. “But let’s be real, I can’t be any worse at it than I am at golf.”
I laugh at that, I can’t help it. “OK.”
We spend the next forty-five minutes killing animated zombies and fighting bloodthirsty motorcycle gangs. Olivia is terrible, but she doesn’t seem to care. By the time I beat her for the fourth straight time I have to admit her plan worked—I’m feeling relaxed and ready, the tension drained right out of my body.
“You could have let me win once,” Olivia teases, flopping backwards onto the bed with a hand flung over her face in mock despair. I like how secretly goofy she is, how willing she is to look silly for the sake of the people she cares about. I never would have guessed before this week that she had this side to her.
“You would have hated that,” I point out, pressing a line of soft kisses along her belly where her shirt has ridden up.
“You’re right,” she admits, sitting upright. “Come on, we don’t want to be late.”
She drives me over to Mason’s office with the top down and the radio playing loud. “My dad asked me to pick up flowers for the rehearsal dinner,” she says as we pull up in front of the tall steel and glass building, “but I’ll come pick you up on my way back?”
“Works for me.” I kiss her once, then again more deeply, licking my way into her mouth until she gasps. “Wish me luck, beautiful.”
I’m opening the door when Olivia reaches out and lays a hand on my arm. “Ryan,” she says suddenly, her eyes wide. “I—” She breaks off.
“Hm?” I pause, my mind already on the boardroom waiting for me. “What’s up?”
Olivia hesitates, then shakes her head. “Nothing,” she says, leaning over, and she kisses me one more time. “Knock ’em dead.”
The pitch passes in a total blur, but judging from the applause and backslaps at the end, my guess is that it went more or less OK. Better than OK, in fact. “We’re in!” Mason tells me, bursting out of the conference room a few minutes later with a massive smile on his face. “The team loved you, and t
hey love the idea of PowerBar. We can’t wait to be a part of it.”
Holy shit!
“You won’t regret it,” I tell him, shaking his hand enthusiastically. “I’m going to be working 24/7 to make this business a success.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Mason grins. “I’ll be honest,” he continues as we head outside into the humid, sunny day. “I always say the best way to get to know a person is to look at the company they keep. As soon as we met Olivia, Arianna and I both knew you had a good head on your shoulders.”
“She’s incredible,” I agree, unable to keep the shit-eating grin off my face. My head is swimming, the adrenaline still pulsing through my veins.
“One of a kind,” Mason agrees. “Don’t let that girl get away.”
“I won’t,” I promise. “Listen, we’re in town for a few more days, if you guys want to bring the boat down to Key West. We’d love to see you and Arianna again.”
“The feeling’s mutual.” Mason holds a hand out. “I’ll be in touch.”
Olivia pulls up a moment later, the tiny backseat overflowing with a million different kinds of flowers, busting out the open windows and blocking the view out the back. “Vanessa called,” she says by way of grim explanation. “She was having a hard time making up her mind. Then she raises her eyebrows. “So?! How’d it go?”
I shake my head. “Total disaster,” I deadpan, but I can’t even keep up the charade for ten full seconds. “I’m kidding,” I confess, my face breaking into a smile. “We’re in.”
Olivia lets out a delighted shriek, scrambling out of the car and throwing her arms around me. “Oh my God,” she says, her voice muffled against my neck as I lift her off her feet. “Ryan! Congratulations. This is amazing. And nobody deserves it more than you.”
I squeeze her tightly. I want to keep holding onto her forever. I never want to let her go. “I couldn’t have done any of it without you,” I tell her, and I’m surprised by how emotional I feel.
